- Joined
- Sep 24, 2011
Now, this is more like it, writing something because I wanted to. What a breath of fresh air this was after the weight of that last story. That's why I don't generally do requests, it takes forever.
Disclaimer: This pseudo-diary entry contains themes of child abuse suffered at the hands of a parent, as Ramona recalls abusive events that occurred when she was 10, 13 and 17 years old. If this is a theme you prefer not to read about, I totally understand, and invite you to please stop reading at this point.
Otherwise, any and all events contained in this story are purely fictional and any resemblance to any real life event is 100% coincidental.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Who I Am
written by Ramona Umbra
May as well introduce myself. Name's Ramona Wilding. Or at least it was, long time ago.
Huh. Wilding. There's a name I haven't heard used for me in years. It seems alien, even though it was the name I started this life with.
I'm one of those "I had it rough" kids. Nothing special, just your typical "asshole drunken father beats the shit out of you and mother turns a blind eye thereby implying she's okay with it" situations. Seems pretty standard, honestly. It gets a little less typical later. I'll get there.
So what is there to really tell? Aside from the big event that changed my life. Which again, I'll get to. The abuse started off minor and escalated as I got older. Well, when I was 10, my drunken ass of a father lost in the finals of a bowling tournament. Tough break for the guy, it had to suck. I was less concerned after he got home, stewed and brewed (when he gets angry and drinks) and then came upstairs. I was already cringing at this point, knowing what was coming. It was worse that night as he used the bowling ball as a weapon to beat the shit out of me and then when I tried to get away, he caught me by the collar of my shirt and then pushed me down the stairs. "Threw" might be more appropriate. Can you imagine a father doing that? The man who helped bring a daughter into this world, doing that? I couldn't either, until the abuse kept coming over the years. Then it just became life.
Another bad incident when I was 13 left me seeing stars. Not even sure what triggered this, all I know is I walked into the house after coming back from the market with the foodstuffs they wanted me to get and was met with a backhand across the face. It sent me down, banging my head off the cast iron cooking pot nearby. When I woke up, I was in the hospice with Cleric Aldan healing a bad gash on my skull. Parents were playing the "fake concerned" act, most cause now there was actual visible physical damage, and that tends to raise questions. Still being just a scared kid at the time, I went with their cover of how I tripped over my rucksack when I set it down. I was pissed off at myself for not having the guts to mention something to the cleric. Why the hell hadn't I said anything?? They were right there, powerless... I had them right where I wanted them, and I did nothing. For the rest of what came after, I blame myself. If I'd only said something... it could have been over... I could have been a normal person... The city guard would have been called and those horrible monsters would have rotted away in jail...
Turns out they rotted away, just... in a different way.
Oh yes. This way... One of the few memories I shamelessly derive such warming joy from. If you ever want to see me smile, this is the best way. I'm told I have a pretty smile.
First, we have to get the bad out of the way, because like with most things in my life, there's either bad, or bad with some good. Only recently have things been better, but...
So, the big one. I was 17 when my life changed drastically. All the abuse had hardened me emotionally. So if you're talking with me and I seem cold, distant, uncaring, or just neutral or flat, it's not you. That's why. I'm just... guarded. I'll eventually open up to you, just be patient with the process.
Well, asshole was drunk as usual one weekend. This week was particularly bad, as he'd been doing shots at the bar in a drinking contest, but what he didn't know was they were doubles. So he got blackout drunk.
He didn't even get the chance to beat me before he fell asleep in his chair. Thought I was safe. I suppose I really should have remembered where I was.
So after he half sobered up, he'd come up the stairs again. That sound was enough to send shivers down my spine.
Well, he had noticed for a while now how I was... growing up... ugh. This disgusts me even to write. Your own daughter, father, your own fucking daughter!! You sick fuck!
He attempted to rape me. There, I said it, it's out. Just like his dick that night.
No God damned way was I taking this.
I fought back.
The sharp slap across his face froze time in that room. The look of shock that I had hit back...
Sadly, I wish I could say that was the end of it, he became a decent person and we all reconciled and lived as an actual family. Hah! Bitch, you thought.
He pulled his pants back up, slowly. Rage grew. Here we go again.
As he leaped to attack, I fought back. It was futile but the fact that I did felt good. Now he had some resistance. Resistance he pretty quickly overcame, but that's not really the point.
He grabbed me by the throat and punched me. And again. And again... This was far and away the worst attack.
He punched the hell out of me. I could feel myself bleeding and my vision starting to double, and he still pummeled me.
After he'd beat the ever loving shit out of me to the point I couldn't move, he put his hands around my neck and started to choke me.
With blood and tears in my eyes, I thought I was going to die. I believe he intended to kill me that night.
I did the only thing I could do... coughed hard and went limp.
When I woke up, I thought I was in the afterlife for a moment. I truly believed I'd died.
My head throbbed from the pummeling. That's how I knew that by some total miracle, I'd survived.
I grabbed a mirror and looked in it to survey the damage. Things seemed dark on one side, didn't know why. Dried blood was flaking off my face. Bad bruises could be seen even under the blood. And then... the mystery of the darkness was solved.
My right eye had been destroyed by one of those punches. I gasped, horrified. My God, what had he done to me?
I had to get rid of the... remnants. I guess. Of that eye. As nauseating as it sounds, I had to pluck that out of there.
The empty socket remained.
I looked around the room, gauging my ability to see. Take a hand and put it over your right eye, without letting your left eye see it in the periphery. You can close your eye too, but its harder to maintain. Now stay that way for about a minute to acclimate yourself to it. You see how your vision corrects? That's what I saw.
I noticed a glow on the desk shelf. I picked it up. It was a book on occult magics and things like that. I'd had this book for a long time now. I'd always found it interesting, even if I couldn't understand the runes in the book, the pictures and diagrams were neat to look at. I'd kept this book as a matter of interest.
It was about to become a matter of life.
I opened the book, and... it was legible.
The inscription on the front page could now be read!
"Those who do not fully possess the gift of sight may see clearest of all."
Upon reading those words, what I can only describe as this...swirling magic cloud.... rose out of the book and then formed a vortex... then unraveled itself, darting for my eye socket! It happened so fast I couldn't even reel until after it was over.
The wisdom and magic this book contained was now mine... It was only minor magic, but it was a base, a foundation to be built on.
All this time, the book was magical, and I could never have known....
I took some time to digest what was happening. It felt like something about me was being written in my brain. A new compartment that contained this information.
After that feeling subsided and it was finished, I knew then exactly what I could do... and I knew I was going to do it.
I crept downstairs. They were talking about me as if I were dead. Apparently, asshole had believed he had killed me. Lucky for me he had not, then.
I stood on the bottom couple stairs, leaning over the handrail, listening. Waiting for them to notice.
Eventually, asshole looked over. "You..! You bitch! You're not dead?!" Here comes the usual anger, the usual storming towards me...
"Shut up, asshole."
That stopped him short. "What?? What did you just say?"
I rolled my eyes, or well, my eye. "What part of "shut up, asshole" did you not understand? Anyway. I have a gift I would like to give you two."
They looked confused. "A gift?" asshole asked.
I smiled. "Oh, yes. You deserve it so very much for everything you've given me in life. Thank you."
They smiled too... having no idea what was coming.
I put my hands out, fingers spread wide. Suddenly, purple and black ropes of energy shot forth, turning into mist when they reached my parents.
They inhaled.... and immediately began to cough and gag.
"What.. what's happening, what are you doing??" mother asked.
"Oh, mother dearest.... so unfortunate you had to get caught up in this too, but by allowing to to happen, you're as bad as he is. This is my payback for the life of hell you two demons have put me through for years.
They began to decay from the inside. They started to cough up blood, and liquid that may used to have been organs.
"Ramona, stop! Please!" asshole yelled.. but it wasn't an angry yell as I'd come to know all my life.
It was a fearful yell. And it was delicious.
Oh, I smiled heartily, despite the dry blood on my face! Despite the missing eyeball. How I smiled!
"Don't worry, daddy"... I did my best to sound like a sweet little daddy's girl at this point. "I'll give you mercy!" I turned sinister, and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him face to face with me. "The same kind of mercy you gave me, you son of a bitch."
He continued to cough and retch as his strength sapped. He tried to push me away, but he was too weak at this point. "That's right. Feel the same fear you always made me feel. Be as weak as you made me. Look at this. LOOK AT IT!" I shouted, as I turned my empty right eye socket to him. "YOU did this to me. You, the one who is supposed to care for his daughter. I want this blood covered, right-eye-missing face to be the last thing you see in life, and may it haunt you forever." And it was the last thing he saw, as the horrible magics began eating his eyes. Very soon they were unable to see as they continued vomiting whatever was putrefying inside them.
I almost lost the fight at this point, as I looked around. Mother had been crawling for the door, and thanks to my now missing eye, it was a huge blind spot. She was right there.... I couldn't let her blow this!
I dashed over and before she could get out, I threw a violent kick at the door, slamming it shut on her arm.... which was now stuck between the frame and the door itself, as it ripped off at her elbow, the decaying flesh too weak to sustain such a traumatic blow. She screamed, or at least, as much as she could scream with everything going on.
"Now really, who did you think you were going to get to help you? Cleric Aldan? Thought you could get him to reverse the putrefaction your insides are going through, did you? Thought you would even make it out the door? That's a big word for "rotting", in case you're too stupid to understand." She looked horrified as I grinned at her. "Oh yeah, that's what's happening. Your organs and insides are basically being liquefied. All that unknown brackish looking stuff you've been vomiting? Could have been a kidney. Maybe a spleen. Muscle tissue... fat... oh yeah, fun stuff." I got serious again. "Don't worry though, I don't think a heart is in there. You have to have one of those first."
Despite the horrible atrocity going on, the one that I caused, I danced lightly into the middle of the kitchen, where I could watch them both suffering. Asshole in the family room, mother in the kitchen by the door, cradling her destroyed stump of an arm... it was glorious. Simply glorious... the retribution was truly joyous. To finally hand back everything I had been given....
"And now, I bid you two farewell... forever. Couldn't have happened to a couple of more deserving people. Now fuck off and die."
Those were the last words I spoke to them as they suffered for a few minutes more. They begged, they pleaded, they cried... none of it affected me, my emotions having been robbed by them, ironically enough. I sat and watched as they got weaker and weaker... and then they stopped moving.
It was done. They were lifeless.
The spell even did the cleanup for me. It was a DNA destroying spell, and blood, vomit etc. is still organic. And so the spell disintegrated all the organic material from the targets specified, while not touching anything else.
At the moment my parents perished, so too did I. You see, I also died that night. Ramona Wilding was no longer.
Instead, I turned toward my new abilities. Darkness. Shadow magic. The beginnings of a warlock...
An umbra.
An umbra is defined as such:
noun, plural um·bras, um·brae [uhm-bree]
shade; shadow.
the invariable or characteristic accompaniment or companion of a person or thing.
Astronomy.
the complete or perfect shadow of an opaque body, as a planet, where the direct light from the source of illumination is completely cut off.Compare penumbra.
the dark central portion of a sunspot.Compare penumbra.
a phantom or shadowy apparition, as of someone or something not physically present; ghost; spectral image.
Shadows, darkness, phantoms.
Umbra.
That night, Ramona Wilding died.... and Ramona Umbra was born.
Wouldn't you believe it, I even made a friend. Back when my powers were still budding, about a year after this whole unfortunate death thing, I'd signed up to help a small group of soldiers repel an invasion force. We were to strike at their base of operations, but to get there, we had to go through a sewer system. One of the soldiers was a high elven skynight, Glemrenil. We were the total opposite of each other... I'm basically poor and dress in a leotard with ragged sleeves. She comes from a society of wealth and fine living. The best of everything is just standard fare to her.
Well, we didn't get too far on that adventure before the army we were aiding actually went in overnight and crushed the invaders. Leaving us with nothing much to do, we were paid decently (I was happy with the payoff, Glem probably thought they were stingy) and went about our ways. Shortly after, the two of us went on a huge archaeological dig, looking for minerals and finding ancient temples. We even built a place to stay. Somewhere along the way we accumulated this beautiful golden furniture that to me, felt like I couldn't even afford to be looking at. And she jumped up on the table! "Because we can do whatever we want!" was her reasoning. Even though my parents were gone, I still sort of felt.... bound. Like I couldn't have nice things, or couldn't do this thing, or that thing, because the lingering fear of a beating remained. Glem finally managed to convince me to sit at that table. I couldn't believe how beautiful it was, and I was more surprised to learn she lived like that pretty much all the time.
Before we parted ways, she gave me a hair bow and told me I had a nice smile, and should use it more, and be less... drab with all the skulls and stuff for decoration.
Maybe one day I'll give it a try.
I'm 22 now. I've since expanded my powers. Don't get me wrong. I don't go around killing people because I can. Oh I can, I could wipe out a town with the same kind of horrible decaying mist I used five years ago. But I'm no murderer of the innocent. And I'd really like to meet up with Glemrenil again. I hope she's doing well.
I still have that hair bow. I'll even wear it just for you.
Disclaimer: This pseudo-diary entry contains themes of child abuse suffered at the hands of a parent, as Ramona recalls abusive events that occurred when she was 10, 13 and 17 years old. If this is a theme you prefer not to read about, I totally understand, and invite you to please stop reading at this point.
Otherwise, any and all events contained in this story are purely fictional and any resemblance to any real life event is 100% coincidental.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Who I Am
written by Ramona Umbra
May as well introduce myself. Name's Ramona Wilding. Or at least it was, long time ago.
Huh. Wilding. There's a name I haven't heard used for me in years. It seems alien, even though it was the name I started this life with.
I'm one of those "I had it rough" kids. Nothing special, just your typical "asshole drunken father beats the shit out of you and mother turns a blind eye thereby implying she's okay with it" situations. Seems pretty standard, honestly. It gets a little less typical later. I'll get there.
So what is there to really tell? Aside from the big event that changed my life. Which again, I'll get to. The abuse started off minor and escalated as I got older. Well, when I was 10, my drunken ass of a father lost in the finals of a bowling tournament. Tough break for the guy, it had to suck. I was less concerned after he got home, stewed and brewed (when he gets angry and drinks) and then came upstairs. I was already cringing at this point, knowing what was coming. It was worse that night as he used the bowling ball as a weapon to beat the shit out of me and then when I tried to get away, he caught me by the collar of my shirt and then pushed me down the stairs. "Threw" might be more appropriate. Can you imagine a father doing that? The man who helped bring a daughter into this world, doing that? I couldn't either, until the abuse kept coming over the years. Then it just became life.
Another bad incident when I was 13 left me seeing stars. Not even sure what triggered this, all I know is I walked into the house after coming back from the market with the foodstuffs they wanted me to get and was met with a backhand across the face. It sent me down, banging my head off the cast iron cooking pot nearby. When I woke up, I was in the hospice with Cleric Aldan healing a bad gash on my skull. Parents were playing the "fake concerned" act, most cause now there was actual visible physical damage, and that tends to raise questions. Still being just a scared kid at the time, I went with their cover of how I tripped over my rucksack when I set it down. I was pissed off at myself for not having the guts to mention something to the cleric. Why the hell hadn't I said anything?? They were right there, powerless... I had them right where I wanted them, and I did nothing. For the rest of what came after, I blame myself. If I'd only said something... it could have been over... I could have been a normal person... The city guard would have been called and those horrible monsters would have rotted away in jail...
Turns out they rotted away, just... in a different way.
Oh yes. This way... One of the few memories I shamelessly derive such warming joy from. If you ever want to see me smile, this is the best way. I'm told I have a pretty smile.
First, we have to get the bad out of the way, because like with most things in my life, there's either bad, or bad with some good. Only recently have things been better, but...
So, the big one. I was 17 when my life changed drastically. All the abuse had hardened me emotionally. So if you're talking with me and I seem cold, distant, uncaring, or just neutral or flat, it's not you. That's why. I'm just... guarded. I'll eventually open up to you, just be patient with the process.
Well, asshole was drunk as usual one weekend. This week was particularly bad, as he'd been doing shots at the bar in a drinking contest, but what he didn't know was they were doubles. So he got blackout drunk.
He didn't even get the chance to beat me before he fell asleep in his chair. Thought I was safe. I suppose I really should have remembered where I was.
So after he half sobered up, he'd come up the stairs again. That sound was enough to send shivers down my spine.
Well, he had noticed for a while now how I was... growing up... ugh. This disgusts me even to write. Your own daughter, father, your own fucking daughter!! You sick fuck!
He attempted to rape me. There, I said it, it's out. Just like his dick that night.
No God damned way was I taking this.
I fought back.
The sharp slap across his face froze time in that room. The look of shock that I had hit back...
Sadly, I wish I could say that was the end of it, he became a decent person and we all reconciled and lived as an actual family. Hah! Bitch, you thought.
He pulled his pants back up, slowly. Rage grew. Here we go again.
As he leaped to attack, I fought back. It was futile but the fact that I did felt good. Now he had some resistance. Resistance he pretty quickly overcame, but that's not really the point.
He grabbed me by the throat and punched me. And again. And again... This was far and away the worst attack.
He punched the hell out of me. I could feel myself bleeding and my vision starting to double, and he still pummeled me.
After he'd beat the ever loving shit out of me to the point I couldn't move, he put his hands around my neck and started to choke me.
With blood and tears in my eyes, I thought I was going to die. I believe he intended to kill me that night.
I did the only thing I could do... coughed hard and went limp.
When I woke up, I thought I was in the afterlife for a moment. I truly believed I'd died.
My head throbbed from the pummeling. That's how I knew that by some total miracle, I'd survived.
I grabbed a mirror and looked in it to survey the damage. Things seemed dark on one side, didn't know why. Dried blood was flaking off my face. Bad bruises could be seen even under the blood. And then... the mystery of the darkness was solved.
My right eye had been destroyed by one of those punches. I gasped, horrified. My God, what had he done to me?
I had to get rid of the... remnants. I guess. Of that eye. As nauseating as it sounds, I had to pluck that out of there.
The empty socket remained.
I looked around the room, gauging my ability to see. Take a hand and put it over your right eye, without letting your left eye see it in the periphery. You can close your eye too, but its harder to maintain. Now stay that way for about a minute to acclimate yourself to it. You see how your vision corrects? That's what I saw.
I noticed a glow on the desk shelf. I picked it up. It was a book on occult magics and things like that. I'd had this book for a long time now. I'd always found it interesting, even if I couldn't understand the runes in the book, the pictures and diagrams were neat to look at. I'd kept this book as a matter of interest.
It was about to become a matter of life.
I opened the book, and... it was legible.
The inscription on the front page could now be read!
"Those who do not fully possess the gift of sight may see clearest of all."
Upon reading those words, what I can only describe as this...swirling magic cloud.... rose out of the book and then formed a vortex... then unraveled itself, darting for my eye socket! It happened so fast I couldn't even reel until after it was over.
The wisdom and magic this book contained was now mine... It was only minor magic, but it was a base, a foundation to be built on.
All this time, the book was magical, and I could never have known....
I took some time to digest what was happening. It felt like something about me was being written in my brain. A new compartment that contained this information.
After that feeling subsided and it was finished, I knew then exactly what I could do... and I knew I was going to do it.
I crept downstairs. They were talking about me as if I were dead. Apparently, asshole had believed he had killed me. Lucky for me he had not, then.
I stood on the bottom couple stairs, leaning over the handrail, listening. Waiting for them to notice.
Eventually, asshole looked over. "You..! You bitch! You're not dead?!" Here comes the usual anger, the usual storming towards me...
"Shut up, asshole."
That stopped him short. "What?? What did you just say?"
I rolled my eyes, or well, my eye. "What part of "shut up, asshole" did you not understand? Anyway. I have a gift I would like to give you two."
They looked confused. "A gift?" asshole asked.
I smiled. "Oh, yes. You deserve it so very much for everything you've given me in life. Thank you."
They smiled too... having no idea what was coming.
I put my hands out, fingers spread wide. Suddenly, purple and black ropes of energy shot forth, turning into mist when they reached my parents.
They inhaled.... and immediately began to cough and gag.
"What.. what's happening, what are you doing??" mother asked.
"Oh, mother dearest.... so unfortunate you had to get caught up in this too, but by allowing to to happen, you're as bad as he is. This is my payback for the life of hell you two demons have put me through for years.
They began to decay from the inside. They started to cough up blood, and liquid that may used to have been organs.
"Ramona, stop! Please!" asshole yelled.. but it wasn't an angry yell as I'd come to know all my life.
It was a fearful yell. And it was delicious.
Oh, I smiled heartily, despite the dry blood on my face! Despite the missing eyeball. How I smiled!
"Don't worry, daddy"... I did my best to sound like a sweet little daddy's girl at this point. "I'll give you mercy!" I turned sinister, and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him face to face with me. "The same kind of mercy you gave me, you son of a bitch."
He continued to cough and retch as his strength sapped. He tried to push me away, but he was too weak at this point. "That's right. Feel the same fear you always made me feel. Be as weak as you made me. Look at this. LOOK AT IT!" I shouted, as I turned my empty right eye socket to him. "YOU did this to me. You, the one who is supposed to care for his daughter. I want this blood covered, right-eye-missing face to be the last thing you see in life, and may it haunt you forever." And it was the last thing he saw, as the horrible magics began eating his eyes. Very soon they were unable to see as they continued vomiting whatever was putrefying inside them.
I almost lost the fight at this point, as I looked around. Mother had been crawling for the door, and thanks to my now missing eye, it was a huge blind spot. She was right there.... I couldn't let her blow this!
I dashed over and before she could get out, I threw a violent kick at the door, slamming it shut on her arm.... which was now stuck between the frame and the door itself, as it ripped off at her elbow, the decaying flesh too weak to sustain such a traumatic blow. She screamed, or at least, as much as she could scream with everything going on.
"Now really, who did you think you were going to get to help you? Cleric Aldan? Thought you could get him to reverse the putrefaction your insides are going through, did you? Thought you would even make it out the door? That's a big word for "rotting", in case you're too stupid to understand." She looked horrified as I grinned at her. "Oh yeah, that's what's happening. Your organs and insides are basically being liquefied. All that unknown brackish looking stuff you've been vomiting? Could have been a kidney. Maybe a spleen. Muscle tissue... fat... oh yeah, fun stuff." I got serious again. "Don't worry though, I don't think a heart is in there. You have to have one of those first."
Despite the horrible atrocity going on, the one that I caused, I danced lightly into the middle of the kitchen, where I could watch them both suffering. Asshole in the family room, mother in the kitchen by the door, cradling her destroyed stump of an arm... it was glorious. Simply glorious... the retribution was truly joyous. To finally hand back everything I had been given....
"And now, I bid you two farewell... forever. Couldn't have happened to a couple of more deserving people. Now fuck off and die."
Those were the last words I spoke to them as they suffered for a few minutes more. They begged, they pleaded, they cried... none of it affected me, my emotions having been robbed by them, ironically enough. I sat and watched as they got weaker and weaker... and then they stopped moving.
It was done. They were lifeless.
The spell even did the cleanup for me. It was a DNA destroying spell, and blood, vomit etc. is still organic. And so the spell disintegrated all the organic material from the targets specified, while not touching anything else.
At the moment my parents perished, so too did I. You see, I also died that night. Ramona Wilding was no longer.
Instead, I turned toward my new abilities. Darkness. Shadow magic. The beginnings of a warlock...
An umbra.
An umbra is defined as such:
noun, plural um·bras, um·brae [uhm-bree]
shade; shadow.
the invariable or characteristic accompaniment or companion of a person or thing.
Astronomy.
the complete or perfect shadow of an opaque body, as a planet, where the direct light from the source of illumination is completely cut off.Compare penumbra.
the dark central portion of a sunspot.Compare penumbra.
a phantom or shadowy apparition, as of someone or something not physically present; ghost; spectral image.
Shadows, darkness, phantoms.
Umbra.
That night, Ramona Wilding died.... and Ramona Umbra was born.
Wouldn't you believe it, I even made a friend. Back when my powers were still budding, about a year after this whole unfortunate death thing, I'd signed up to help a small group of soldiers repel an invasion force. We were to strike at their base of operations, but to get there, we had to go through a sewer system. One of the soldiers was a high elven skynight, Glemrenil. We were the total opposite of each other... I'm basically poor and dress in a leotard with ragged sleeves. She comes from a society of wealth and fine living. The best of everything is just standard fare to her.
Well, we didn't get too far on that adventure before the army we were aiding actually went in overnight and crushed the invaders. Leaving us with nothing much to do, we were paid decently (I was happy with the payoff, Glem probably thought they were stingy) and went about our ways. Shortly after, the two of us went on a huge archaeological dig, looking for minerals and finding ancient temples. We even built a place to stay. Somewhere along the way we accumulated this beautiful golden furniture that to me, felt like I couldn't even afford to be looking at. And she jumped up on the table! "Because we can do whatever we want!" was her reasoning. Even though my parents were gone, I still sort of felt.... bound. Like I couldn't have nice things, or couldn't do this thing, or that thing, because the lingering fear of a beating remained. Glem finally managed to convince me to sit at that table. I couldn't believe how beautiful it was, and I was more surprised to learn she lived like that pretty much all the time.
Before we parted ways, she gave me a hair bow and told me I had a nice smile, and should use it more, and be less... drab with all the skulls and stuff for decoration.
Maybe one day I'll give it a try.
I'm 22 now. I've since expanded my powers. Don't get me wrong. I don't go around killing people because I can. Oh I can, I could wipe out a town with the same kind of horrible decaying mist I used five years ago. But I'm no murderer of the innocent. And I'd really like to meet up with Glemrenil again. I hope she's doing well.
I still have that hair bow. I'll even wear it just for you.
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